You and I are all as much continuous with the physical universe as a wave is continuous with the ocean.
Those who want to row on the ocean of human knowledge do not get far, and the storm drives those out of their course who set sail.
There is good evidence that Venus once had liquid water and a much thinner atmosphere, similar to Earth billions of years ago. But today the surface of Venus is dry as a bone, hot enough to melt lead, there are clouds of sulfuric acid that reach a hundred miles high and the air is so thick it’s like being 900 meters deep in the ocean.
Now and then, when I grow nostalgic about my ocean childhood – the wauling of gulls and the smell of salt, somebody solicitous will bundle me into a car and drive me to the nearest briny horizon.
Metaphysics is a dark ocean without shores or lighthouse, strewn with many a philosophic wreck.
If I tried to describe my personality, I’d start to gush about living by the ocean half my life and being brought up on ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and believing in magic for years and years.
On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.
The ocean moans over dead men’s bones.
In the ocean of baseness, the deeper we get, the easier the sinking.
If, as the emperor Augustus says, from his time the coast of the ocean from Cadiz to the mouth of the Elbe obeyed the Romans, the obedience in this corner of it was far from voluntary and little to be trusted.